The Bleeding Effect
by dear-ambellina
Summary: about exactly what it sounds like. Altair/Oc... present and past action. swearing, possible 'adult themes' don't read if you'll get offended. not at romance-y as you'd think. HAITUS!
1. Chapter 1

The day it began didn't start off any different. She got up and went to her job, sitting in an uncomfortable chair behind a desk answering phones. But the poor thing didn't know that one man in a tacky cream colored suit would change everything.

"Hello, welcome to Smithson Designs. How can I help you?"

"You're Leila Bennett, correct?" She glanced back up at the man standing before her.

"Yes... do I- do I know you, sir?"

"No, I should be quite sure you don't. My name is Thomas Jones. I work for a little technology company called Abstergo Industries. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes in private? There's a very urgent matter to discuss." She stood and glanced back toward the offices.

"Does this have to do with my brother? Is he in trouble again or something? I'm sorry for whatever he's hacked into, really, and he'll work off any damages he's done. I promise we'll fully repay-" the aging man interrupted her with a chuckle.

"No, no, Miss Bennett, your brother hasn't gotten into any trouble with us. On the contrary, it's a spot of trouble we've gotten ourselves into. I believe you studied genetics and computer programming in college?"

"Yes, but I don't understand what that could have to do with-"

"Miss Bennett, that's exactly what I'd like to discuss with you. But it's a sensitive matter, and my boss has strictly instructed me not to talk about it with anyone but you."

"Well, I uh, get off at five. I guess if it's that important-"

"I'll be waiting outside for you then, Miss Bennett. Please enjoy the rest of your day." And with that he was gone, and Leila was standing confused and in a daze until the phone rang and snapped her back to the present. She answered it and did the rest of the day's work with the same dazed quality, the thought in the back of her mind nagging her all day. What did that company... Abstergo, was it?- what did they need from her? Sure she'd studied computer programming, but that had been three years ago, and no companies had shown interest in her yet despite her degree. And she'd never even heard of the company to begin with. But as they closed up and left for the day, she set her mind to find out what it was that was going on.

"Bye, Leila, see you on Monday!"

"Yeah, bye," she called back to her coworker, already searching the parking lot for the man. He was leaning casually up against her car when she spotted him, and waved to her as if they'd known each other for years.

"Miss Bennett, I'm glad to see you again. How was the rest of your workday? Productive, I hope."

"If you'll excuse me sir, I'd really prefer if we cut all the bullshit out, and you just tell me what it is that your company desperately needs me for." He looked a little surprised, removing his fedora and raising his eyebrows. But he was not displeased.

"Ah. A little temper there, Miss Bennett? Probably got that from your mother's side of the family, no?"

"Sir, I'm not sure who you are, but if you don't start telling me something right now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn your boss down. She reached into her purse, but as soon as her fingers curled around the car keys, the man had grabbed her wrist. Much too tightly for a pleasant conversation.

"No, Miss Bennett, I'm sorry, but you're wrong. _I'm _afraid that turning us down is not an option." Suddenly realizing how stupid she had been, how naive to trust some man whose name she hadn't even learned, her heart started pounding and a sweat broke out on her forehead.

"What are you talking about? Let go of me. Get out of here, or I'll scream! I swear, I will!" The man smiled, looking just over her shoulder, and she turned to see a larger man, younger and muscular, standing behind her. There was a rag in his hand and a somewhat sinister look in his eyes.

"No, you won't Miss Bennett. Please accompany Johann and I, so we don't have to get rough."

"P-people will notice I'm missing. My coworkers, my f-family-"

"Everything has been taken care of. Now, Miss Bennett-" She wrenched from his grasp and, in her first good move of the day, pushed past him and made a break across the parking lot. She knew she'd have a second before the big one reacted, and kicked off her heels as she ran, pushing herself to a full sprint in her nylons.

"No such luck, milady." Johann's voice was derisive, and shockingly close. She jerked to a stop as he caught the back of her jacket, and had wrapped his arm around her middle before she could slip out of it and continue to run. He was taller than her, and her feet left the ground when he returned to his full height.

"Please..." she gasped, her voice deserting her, "please just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear." His face was close behind her, and she could feel when he shook his head. "I- I'll do anything..." Now he whispered in her ear, his hot breath making her feel squeamish,

"Tempting..." but he turned and carried her struggling back to the older man, ho was straightening his suit out. Johann set her down, but kept a strong hold on both her upper arms.

"Giving up so easily, Miss Bennett? You're doing quite a disservice to your ancestors."

"My... what?"

"You'll know in time. Now-" he looked cheerily up to Johann, "we really must get going, we're running a little late! If you would please...?" And the last thing she remembered of the parking lot was the cloth pressed over her mouth and nose, and collapsing into blackness and Johann's arms as her legs gave out.

She almost screamed out loud as she came to, still struggling in the last memory. But when her vision caught up with her, the cry petered out before it could gain any real momentum.

It was a bedroom. Minimally furnished, and all in the color of stainless steel, but a bedroom nonetheless. She was in a bed half covered in dull gray sheets and a blanket, and her hands were tied.

"H- hello?" she ventured nervously. "Mr. Kidnapper?" There was a beep, and a panel in the wall... a door, slid open with a soft whoosh. The older man stepped in, but now instead of his matching suit he wore a crisp white lab coat.

"Miss Bennett," he said looking down at a clipboard, "Welcome back to the world of the living."

"Where did you take me?"

"I trust you're feeling quite better now?" He ignored her question.

"Where are we? Why am I tied up? What do you want from me?" He looked up as the door slid open again and a younger man came in. He was dressed similarly, but when he made eye contact with her, gave her a small sympathetic smile.

"Doctor... Smith," the newcomer said hesitantly, "The Animus is fully prepared. If you'd like to check the final calibrations and enter the coordinates, I'll take care of getting Miss Bennett ready." 'Smith' nodded and left, handing the clipboard off to the other man on his way out. The one that was left sat on the edge of the bed and held a hand out.

"Name's Marcus. You can call me Mark, since we'll be together a lot while you're here." She held her bound hands out to him, and he raised his eyebrows. "Oh, right. Let's get that off, then." He untied her, then waved a hand in the air, motioning for her to go ahead and ask her questions.

"Where are we?"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you exactly. But you're at the headquarters of Abstergo Industries."

"What do you people want from me?"

"Nothing that's going to hurt you, I promise. It's rather complicated, but I'll try to explain it simply. In every person's DNA is the genetic memory of all their past ancestors. We've developed a machine that can access those genetic memories, and let us see the life your ancestors lived."

"You want to see what my ancestors' life was like?"

"Not exactly. We believe one of your ancestors has information that could prove very important to our company. We'd like you to help us access the memories and discover what this is."

"What, like buried treasure or something?" He laughed softly, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Something like that. But you don't need to worry about it. All you have to do is follow the course of your ancestor's life. I'll be watching too, so if there's something there we need, I'll see it." She pushed the covers off and Mark stood, helping her to her feet.

"I'll give you a little while to freshen up, then we'll get you acquainted with the Animus. Bathroom's through that door, fresh clothes are in the armoire. See you in a few." He smiled again, then left her on her own.

The shower was long and hot, clearing her head of the last cobwebs of what they'd used to knock her out. And the clothes, though generic and monotone, were comfortable and clean. When Mark came back, he looked her up and down, trying not to be noticeable. He was.

"Are those okay?" He asked. "I'm sure I could get you some pants or something."

"No, no. The skirt's fine." It reached to her knees, and the white t-shirt had a gray sweater to cover up. "It's pretty comfortable, actually."

"It looks nice," He turned away and opened the door. "Let's go on out, okay?" The room just outside was huge by comparison, but mostly empty. Against the far was a long desk with a bank of computers on it, at least four or five screens on it. 'Doctor Smith' was sitting in front of one of these, typing away.

But the thing that dominated the room was what drew most of her attention. It looked more like a waist high slab then a place people were expected to lay down, but with a slight curve where the base of her back would be. A lit up circle was at one end, where her head would go, she assumed, and lights that would run down her back. There was a small screen and keypad by the other end, now sitting dormant. She must have stopped, because Mark turned back and took her hand gently, leading her further into the room.

"Come on, it's all right." They reached the contraption, and he typed a few things on his keypad. "Well, this is the Animus. Climb on up, and lay down, then I'll explain everything you'll need to know." She did as he asked, closing her eyes and trying to breathe deeply to slow her pounding heart down. Mark spoke lowly to her, in a calming voice that made it seem like he was confiding in her something important.

"You can relax, okay? You'll be perfectly fine, and I'll be right here the whole time." She nodded, feeling only slightly better. "Now, it'll be something like falling asleep, this room will fade out, and when you wake up, you'll be surrounded by nothing. That's the space we use to let you get used to moving around in your ancestor's body. It'll be kind of like a dream that you can control. When you're used to moving around and everything, I'll isolate the first memory in the sequence, and place you into it. It'll be the same thing, everything fading, then coming back to the real world. Now, we're not sure what the memory will be exactly, and we may have to pull you out and send you further back. But for today, we'll just go in once, so you can get a feel for what it's like." He moved back to the keypad and began typing again.

"You should have your ancestor's instincts and whatever skills they had, so you'll fit in fine. Just go with her, and only interfere if you absolutely have to. Okay? Take a deep breath, and we'll begin."

The getting used to seeing through someone else's eyes wasn't that hard. A little strange seeing herself in some kind of old timey undergarment, and one of her fingers was missing, leaving only a small stump. So she started walking. Mark must have realized she was ready, because a few moments later, the blue haziness began to fade to black.

INTO THE PAST

The figure in the bed lay still as I stood in the corner. The fool. One hand moved slowly, surely to my back and pulled out a dagger. It caught the moonlight for a second before I moved it into shadow. It was time to move, before someone else entered the room. There was no sound as I moved to the edge of the bed, holding the feather in my other hand.

_--small pov change--_

There was someone there. I could sense him in the darkest corner of the room, even if I didn't know what room I was in. I could smell him too. Sweat and excitement and a little fear that maybe he didn't even notice. My hand was already under the pillow, and as he approached it gripped the handle of the dagger tighter, preparing for him. He stopped for a moment at the edge of the bed, and my anger finally pushed me to ruin the ruse that I was asleep.

"So he's finally sent someone for me, then." He breathed in sharply, almost a gasp but too controlled by his training.

"A woman?" I opened my eyes even though I was still facing away from him, and let out one scornful humph.

"Did he not even tell you who I was? You poor uninitiated bootlicker." That angered him, and I heard the swoosh of air as he raised his blade. "Do it then," I taunted. I rolled and raised my own knife and the two blades met with the clang of metal I'd missed for too long.

BACK TO THE PRESENT

"Leila! Open your eyes, honey!" She tried to do as the voice said, but it felt like her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds. They came open slowly and she saw the nice doctor's face, in blurry close-up.

"That's right, look here, right at me. Focus, okay?" He slowly got clearer, until her vision was back to normal. "That's a good girl." He smoothed back her hair from her forehead. "Can you sit up?" She once more did as she was told.

"What happened?"

* * *

A/N: here's a shot at assassin's creed. not much of a start, but there'll be more. most likely. uh, assuming you all know who the guy is that was sneakin' up on her in the past... review pleeze?


	2. Chapter 2

"What happened?" She asked groggily, swinging her legs over one side of the Animus. Mark began checking her blood pressure and other medical things she paid no attention to, then repeated her question. The two doctors talked quietly a little ways from her, but she picked up enough to frighten her. She stood and backed away from the pair.

"No way... No! My heart stopped!? You can't think that's normal, a heart just stopping! I'm not going back into that... that thing! I'll die!" Mark turned and walked toward her, speaking calmly.

"Listen, your heart might not have been beating, but your blood was still running, and every other major organ was functioning perfectly. I saw that for myself, and Doctor Smith did, too. You were still alive."

"No!" She backed up into something, and looked behind her to find none other than her new friend, Johann. He grinned before grabbing her upper arms in his massive grip.

"Going somewhere?" She struggled against him until Mark reached her and pulled her away from Johann, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"It's perfectly safe. You're not going to have to go back in today anyway. I'm going to figure this out myself and fix it right away. Then we'll send you further back, that wasn't a good moment to put you in to start with. And we'll only get you back in when you're ready. Okay?"

"No. She goes back in tomorrow," Smith said bluntly from his computer station.

"It'll take hours to figure out the glitch in the system and fix it. Not to mention contacting Beta and re-synching with them. And if they've run into the same problem, it'll take twice as long to talk them through the repair-"

"Then it looks like none of you will get much sleep tonight. The girl is to stay in her quarters until she's needed. Now get to work, Marcus." The younger man went to take Leila back to her room, but Johann stopped him.

"You heard the doctor. Get to work. I'll take care of the girl. Mark eyed him warily, then turned to the Animus.

"Just watch yourself. I don't want to see so much as a hair out of place on her head. I'll have you discharged if you hurt this one." This wasn't very reassuring as the burly man shoved her along in front of him to her room. And sure enough, as soon as the door slid shut, one of his hands was over her mouth and the other holding her firmly against him by the waist.

"Scream and there'll be much worse for you than a little fondling, milady," he grunted in her ear. Thankfully he got his fill quickly and without moving past her underwear, then left to return to whatever his duties were. Leila knew that eventually he wouldn't leave it at that, though.

She sat on the bed and looked around until the mixture of boredom and stress left her so tired she curled up on top of the covers and drifted off.

dream

There was a knife to her neck. He had a knife to her and her hands captured in an iron grip, pressed between them, and one knee forced between her legs, couldn't anyone see that? Or was it how close they were and that she'd stopped showing fear years ago that let everyone pass by as he whispered death in her ear? Maybe they couldn't even see the knife. He'd pressed her into the shadows of the souk, and his blade was small. Even she hadn't seen it until it was too late to pull her own in defense.

Not that she shouldn't have known he would have one.

"And as you take your last breath into your body..." He was still trying to catch his breath. He'd put up a good chase, but in the end it was her own stupidity that had gotten her caught like this. Her own emotions that had gotten in the way when he'd looked her in the eye, despite the murderous intent in his shadowed gaze. With every panting breath he let exhaled against her skin she wanted him more. Was this why they'd not wanted her to join them? Was this something only women did when they were in danger?

"... and your shame shall be on your father. And on your ancestors for all of eternity." She couldn't help but smile at that.

"My dear, sweet, brother in arms... who do you think pushed me into this life? I came not by choice." His brows furrowed, she knew they would even if she couldn't see his face. He pressed even closer when her hand twitched, testing the strength of his grip. Now she could feel his heartbeat, almost slowed back to normal. But his breath was still hot on her neck even if he didn't know what to say.

"They really don't tell you anything, do they?" This angered him, for the blade dug in and drew a droplet of blood that ran to the neck of her robe. "Let me go."

"And why should I do that?" He pulled back enough so they could look at each other. He was smirking, lusting for the kill.

"You will have the chance to learn what you think you already know." He released her hands, but kept himself pressed against her so she couldn't move. "Come to the place you first saw me tonight. I will be waiting."

dream end

She woke up as suddenly and fully as if she'd never been asleep to begin with. Someone was coming, she thought vaguely, and a few seconds later, the door opened and Mark entered. She sat up and he smiled at her, mumbling a good morning. She smiled faintly in return, climbing to her feet and brushing through her hair to straighten it out.

"Are you already all set up?"

"Well, yes. But don't you want to freshen up, and wake up a little before going in? Maybe have something to eat?" She shook her head. After more than two weeks of living normal life through her ancestors eyes in the twelfth century, she didn't feel the need. Who needs to look fabulous to lay in a relative coma on a slab of metal all day?

"No, I'm fine. Let's just go." He nodded and she followed him out, getting onto the Animus as usual. Now that she thought about it, sitting around in Damascus and going to the market all day wasn't so bad. It was interesting at the least, and judging by the house she lived in and the men that guarded the place and tailed her in public, she was wealthy and apparently important to someone, despite being no older than fifteen or so. Only she didn't think that a woman would live alone back then, and she had no husband as far as she could tell. But then again, hardly anyone had spoken directly to her, and no one at all had referred to her by name.

"Are you ready?" Mark's voice snapped her from her thoughts. She took a deep breath and nodded, waiting for the real world to disintegrate into the memory of her ancestor.

POV CHANGE

The sound of a party woke me. It sounded pretty rowdy, and as soon as I heard a vase crash to the floor followed by a round of laughter, I knew it was father and his friends. They were back again, finally 'home' in Damascus. Anger instantly filled me, and I threw the covers off of the bed, getting to my feet and put decent clothes on. How dare he come here in the middle of the night and make a mess of this place.

I was in the stairwell coming down to the fisrt floor when the room fell silent and I heard an awful moan.

"Please... let me live! I will give you whatever you want!" They were killing someone in my house? How dare father and his friends call themselves scholars then turn around and kill someone here. Wait- assassinate... no, it couldn't be.

I peeked around the corner into the courtyard, seeing it lit by lamps all around. Sure enough, there they were, father and five other men, dressed in their white robes , weapons drawn. They surrounded a bleeding man, the one who was pleading for his life, and before I could take another breath, one of them reached down and pulled him to his feet. Once the poor soul was upright, there was a sword through him, and his lifeless body was thrown back down. I shook my head in silent horror, backing away in preparation to run for the city guard's post, but I stepped on the tail of the cat I'd not noticed sleeping nearby.

It let out an angry yowl, and I knew I had to escape, for assassins would surely be after me now. I ran back upstairs and barricaded the door to my room as heavy boot falls trailed me up the stairs. As they began to struggle with the door, I used the heavy metalwork jewelry box to break the window. I cut my arm climbing out, but paid it no mind as I started to climb upward onto the roof. Once I was on my feet again with the rooftops of the whole city sprawled before me, I heard them crash into my room. Soon they'd be up here, following me, I knew, so I ran.

I didn't get to clamber over many of the neighbors houses or run along beams that spanned alleys before I spotted a guard on a roof in the distance. Barely having the breath, I opened my mouth to call to him when I came up short, caught by the back of my collar. A hand clamped over my mouth, and I was whisked behind a rooftop garden, out of sight.

"So it was my daughter after all," Father grinned. I elbowed the man who held me as hard as I could, and though he let go, another grabbed me. "I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere," he said coldly. He stepped forward and smashed his fist into my stomach, taking my breath completely. I fell to my knees, released completely, and gasped,

"You bastard..." His response was another sinister smile. When one of the others spoke up, I found that my father must be the leader. The head of the assassins in Damascus...

"Al Mualim, sir... what should we do with her?"

"She knows who we are. Kill her," another chimed in. But father shook his head.

"No. She may be of use to me yet. To all of us." He crouched next to me, taking my chin in his hand and forcing me to look into his eyes. "It's time you lived up to your name, Samirah. It's time you started to entertain the brotherhood."

* * *

A/N: there's some more. as you may have noticed, the ancestor is put in first person, and Leila is in third. there's some more coming up inside the animus before it switches back, so keep that one in mind! i hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

***

When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed, still dressed. I sat up, the muscles in my stomach protesting, and found a note on top of a pile of clothes on the floor next to the bed. White robes. I picked up the slip of paper, reading my father's messy scribble of writing.

'Samirah-

you'll wear these from now on when you are to be seen by others. The hood hides the face. No one shall know you're a woman in public, and as far as the people of Damascus know, you've taken to your bed and won't leave the house anymore. Do as I wish or you'll be useless and the useless who know too much are disposed of.'

He didn't sign it, but then again, I was surprised he'd started off with my name. Sighing, I stood and stripped off my dirty clothes and put on the robes he'd supplied me. As I expected them to, they fit perfectly, and once I was fully dressed, I opened the door, only to be greeted by the hilt of a sword smashing into my face.

I stumbled back and fell to my butt, hands flying to my nose. I felt the blood gushing from it, and as my attacker entered the room and swung his sword down at me, I threw myself to one side, landing on my stomach. From this view I could see under the bed, where someone had left a sword. So he'd intended for this to happen, it was some kind of test. I scrambled on my hands and knees over to the bed and lifted the weapon, turning back just in time for it to clang against the sword of my attacker. The impact jarred through my whole body, and the weapon dropped out of my hand. The man raised his sword to strike again, and I picked up the sword, managing to get to my knees before another impact slammed through me.

I managed to keep the sword in my hands this time, and when the impact forced me back to the ground I formulated a plan. When he advanced on me, I lifted one foot and unexpectedly kicked him as hard as I could in the gut, sending him stumbling back a few steps with an annoyed grunt of pain. Using this chance, I scrambled to my feet and darted into the hall, letting him chase me. He'd caught up with me by the time I reached the stairs, and the force of blocking his swing sent me tumbling down them. Now that the wind was knocked out of me, I half crawled away a few feet, leaning against the wall to gasp for air when I finally got to my feet.

Now on edge, I sensed his silent presence as soon as he stopped behind me, and I turned to protect myself. He seemed distracted now, not noticing my form in the shadowed corner of the hallway, and my strike went unblocked, slashing a shallow cut on his arm. The man grunted in pain, grabbing for me, but I dashed away again, skidding to a halt at the edge of the courtyard. It was full of assassins again, more than before, all waiting for something. My pursuer caught up and grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling me roughly back to him, and pressed a small dagger to my throat.

"You'll pay for the wound you gave me," he growled in my ear, but he was interrupted before he could take action.

"Enough!" All of the men bowed their heads to the owner of the voice, and jostled aside to let him to the front.

"Father-" He held up a hand to silence me.

"You did rather well. I haven't seen such an interesting first fight in years. With some work, you could prove to be a very worthy initiate after all." His looked flashed to the man holding me, then a few others nearby. They seemed to understand his wordless order, encircling me and grabbing a limb each, lifting me from the ground.

"What are you doing? Put me down, I-" One of them wrenched the sword from my hand, and soon I found myself held securely into a chair, unable to escape from the iron grip of these men. Father leaned close in front of me, caressing the side of my face gently.

"I do believe that your nose was broken," he cooed. I realized what he meant to do and struggled harder, venturing so far as to plead with him as he moved slowly. My pleas did nothing, and my eyes instantly overflowed with tears as he snapped my nose back into place. I cried out against gritted teeth, hating the few men who chuckled at what they assumed was weakness.

"Now that that's taken care of, it's time for your initiation." My left arm was pulled up and held on the desk top, fingers splayed out. My nose forgotten, I struggled as hard as I could, to no avail.

"Father, no! Don't do this!" He smiled coolly at me, taking a dagger from one of his men. He held it to my ring finger for a moment, getting the spot right, and took the digit in one strike.

***POV CHANGE***

She opened her eyes, seeing Mark standing above her again. He smiled nervously, talking to her in a low voice.

"Hey, Leila. How are you feeling?" She blinked a couple of times.

"It feels like I got hit in the face with a frying pan. Can I have something to drink?"

"Yeah, I'll get you something in a minute. Can you... can you sit up for me?" She made to do as she was asked, but every muscle in her body protested. She laid back.

"No, can I- is it okay if I just lay here for a few minutes? I feel like I really went through that fight..." He couldn't keep eye contact with her, and she asked groggily, "Hey, what's that... is that my heart monitor?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're fine, just a little over excited. It'll slow down in a minute or two, just keep taking deep breaths." She turned her head to one side, trying to get a look at the monitor, but her eyes blurred with tears from an intense pain in her nose. Keeping here eyes shut, she turned back to Mark.

"That didn't... really happen, right? Shit from the animus can't- actually happen to me, right?" He didn't respond, and she opened her eyes, lifting her left hand into her field of vision. It was wrapped in a bloody bandage, her ring finger clearly missing, leaving a small stump. "How did this happen?! You told me this was just like dreaming! You can't get your finger cut off in a dream and wake up with a fucking stump!" She sat up, ignoring all of her sore muscles and standing up. good hand clenched, she yelled even louder.

"How did this happen? Did you do this so I'd believe in your company's treasure hunt?! How can you just cut someone's finger off! You bastards, I want you to reattach it! You're doctors here, I know you can do it!" Mark held his hands up defensively.

"Leila, we didn't do that to you. I'm sorry, but your finger is gone." She backed away from them, cornering herself against the wall.

"I'm not going back in there! I don't care what you do to me, I'm not going back in! What if they try to kill me, huh? Are you going to let me die?" Mark approached her slowly, speaking in a level voice that made her wonder if he'd ever had to do this before.

"Leila, just calm down, okay? You're a little bit beat up, yeah, but you'll be fine. Plenty of people make it just fine with a missing finger. And your ring finger's not even that important of one, right? Let's just get you something to drink and some rest, and we can figure things out when you're feeling a little better. How's that sound?" She sank to the floor, knees pulled up to her chest in a childlike manner, shying away from him.

"If it's not important, you cut off your ring finger..." The negotiating most likely would have gone on like this had 'Dr. Smith' not run out of patience once again and called his burly friend to take care of their unruly kidnapee. Johann strode up to her and lifted her right up, warning her not to struggle.

"It'll only make you hurt worse, milady," he chuckled as he carted her off to her quarters and dumped her on the bed. Mark was close behind, scowling at the larger man until he and Leila were alone. Only now she refused to respond to him, so he checked over her injuries in silence. She still ignored him when he brought her meal and some painkillers, not even glancing at them until he'd left her sight. Once she was finished eating and curled up into bed, she muttered bitterly,

"They'll have to kill me before I go back into that thing."

****

It was two days before Mark even tried to convince her to get back into the animus again, two days that she was left relatively alone. Except for getting her meals and the awkwardly silent changing of the bandages on her hand, she saw and talked to no one the whole time. But when the time came, she was determined to put up a fight.

"Come on Leila, we've rerun all of the diagnostics on it, and I promise nothing will go wrong this time. It'll be like controlling a puppet, watching what she does."

"Yeah, that's what you said last time," she scooted to the far side of the queen sized bed and looked away from the young doctor, "and look how that turned out." He sighed when she held up her hand, not seeing just that, but also the bruises on the bridge of her nose and cheek.

"I know, and I'm sorry for that. Really, nothing like that has ever happened before, not to this extent. And I hate to put it so bluntly, but if you don't come with me willingly, Doctor Smith is ready to send his buffoon in here to force you out there."

"Fine, let him. He can't force me to synchronize." She stood and moved to the bathroom door, but Mark was close behind her. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her so they were face to face.

"Look, Leila, I've been nothing but kind to you since you were brought here, okay? But the fact of the matter is outside of the two of us, no one at Abstergo gives a shit about you. If you don't prove yourself useful, they'll have no qualms with killing you, right here and now. Do you get what I'm trying to tell you here?" Her eyes had grown wide and she nodded wordlessly, letting Mark lead her into the main chamber without a struggle.

"So you've finally decided to join us," Smith drawled. Leila didn't so much as look away from Mark for a second, still in shock from her newfound knowledge. She lay down on the animus and waited as the thick plastic panel slid over her vision, but keeping her eyes on Mark as he leaned close to her.

"You ready?" He offered her a weak smile that she did not return, instead blinking a few burning tears from her eyes.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"You'll be fine, I promise. I'm not going to let anything happen to you-"

"Are you going to talk all day?" Smith shouted from his desk. Mark straightened up and moved back to his post at the foot of the animus, typing quickly on the keypad.

"We're sending you back in some time later than you went in last. From the looks of it, they'll have taught your ancestor all of the fighting skills she'll need to take care of herself. I recommend that you practice with it a little before you actually go walking around somewhere, in case you get in a fight. Okay, here we go..."

***

I was standing in my bedroom, fully dressed in my new daily attire. I listened carefully before opening the door, having learned well enough to take care if you're not sure you're alone. I soon found that I was, stepping out into the brightly lit courtyard and pausing before a straw sparring dummy in one corner. I warmed up, practicing my aim with my throwing knives and getting in a few strokes of the sword, then I decided it was time to step out into the crowded streets of midday Damascus.

The sun beat down on the crowds of people as they moved in small groups, the heat so oppressive you could almost see it radiate up from the streets themselves. I moved deftly through the people until I found myself outside a building that seemed to have no entrance. Once I'd climbed up onto the roof, of course, things were much different.

"Ah, sister, I was wondering when you would deign to pay me a visit," the man waiting inside the cool dark building muttered, voice dripping with disdain.

"I'm not here for your witty banter, Karif. What has my father sent for me?" He smiled, not a pleasing sight, but I maintained eye contact.

"There's a farmer who's been holding out on a few things he owes Al Mualim. You'll go collect them."

"I'm not a shopkeeper, I don't collect on debts!" I growled, slamming my fist on the counter loud enough to make my companion jump. "Tell him to get someone else." I began to turn away, but Karif grabbed my wrist, pinning it to the counter.

"You know, there's going to be another gathering in Masyaf next week to celebrate the advancement of our youngest brother. You'll want your father to be pleased with you when he calls upon you, won't you?"

"Let go of my arm," I muttered.

"Or do you want another repeat of the last gathering when you lived up to your name? You know, sister, I heard the crusaders closed the brothels in Acre and Jerusalem, so there'll be no one available but you..." I grabbed his arm and yanked him across the counter, pressing a knife to his throat.

"You touch me again and I'll have enough trouble trying to explain to my father why I've killed you, _brother_." He smiled at me again and I released him, putting my weapon away. "So where does this farmer live?"

"That's a good girl. He lives just outside Acre, the last town before you reach the city walls. There'll be a horse waiting for you at the gates. I trust you'll have this one done quickly?"

"As long as he doesn't put up a fight. I'll be back before sundown."

The ride to the town was uneventful, though actually finding the man once I arrived proved more difficult than I'd expected. When I finally approached his house and knocked on the front door he was already opening it with a fearful look on his face.

"I assume you know why I'm here," I said, used to lowering my voice enough to hide the fact I was a woman.

"Y-yes. I've got what I owe him, I swear it. Let me just go and get it, okay?" Beneath my hood, I almost grinned at how he feared me, but I kept my voice even.

"Of course." He stepped out of the room and left me with his wife, a stooped woman almost as old as her husband. She offered me a seat, which I refused, and a small cup of tea which I accepted but checked for poison before taking a sip. It wasn't long before I realized the farmer had made a run for it, even going so far as to desert his wife with an assassin to get away from his debts. I set my tea down and excused myself from the woman, stepping out into the small alley between this house and the one that backed up to it just as he rounded the corner out into the open.

"Damn it," I swore under my breath, racing back through the house and sprinting from the front door after the man. I caught up to him quickly, having at least twenty years on him, but seeing a group of crusaders camped just ahead, I held back my anger and caught him by the back of the collar. He cried out in fright, gaining the soldiers' attention. Two of them came over, but before they could get too close, I threw my hood back and pulled my cloak around my shoulders tighter to hide my weapons.

"What's going on here?" One said in french, repeated by the other in the assumption neither of us could understand him. I smiled and bowed my head slightly, speaking to the second man.

"I'm so sorry to cause a disturbance, sir. My grandfather, he's run away again. My mother and father sent me out to bring him home." I waited for him to translate, but the old man began shouting again.

"No don't believe her, I've never seen her before in my life!" The soldiers looked back to me, but I only smiled again.

"I'm so sorry for this. You see, grandfather is getting old now, and I'm afraid his mind is going." I glanced down as if saddened, "He doesn't even recognize his own family some days." After the translation, I looked up to see both of the crusaders' gazes had softened somewhat towards me, and I was soon granted permission to take my 'grandfather' home. I began to lead him away, still whimpering, and as he opened his mouth to plea with a local man who was walking nearby us, I clamped a hand on his shoulder and whispered so only he could hear me.

"If you say anything about this to anyone, I'll kill your wife while you watch. So you can see what's in store for you." He immediately clammed up, allowing me to lead him back to his house, where I replaced my hood before entering and greeting his wife.

"Well your husband proves to be more of a coward than I expected. I'm sorry you've had to live with him all of these years. But you won't any longer."

"No, please don't! I can't run the farm without him!"

"I'm afraid the milksop has forced me to reveal my identity to him. I have no choice but to kill him. But I will do it quickly, and I won't make a mess in your immaculate home."

"B-but the farm-" she pleaded.

"You have your sons," I snapped, growing impatient with her. She began weeping as I turned to the man, who had his back pressed against a wall, looking for a way out. My hidden blade was swift as usual, and the man dropped to the floor dead before either of them realized I'd struck. I spun back to face her, my anger clear in my voice.

"You'll get me what your husband owed and appreciate that I let you live after seeing this. Correct?" She nodded hurriedly and within minutes I was on my way back to Damascus, saddlebags full of silver. But just as I was tying up my horse in the stable outside the city, I heard a vaguely familiar voice call out to me.

"Hey, hey!" I didn't turn at first, slinging the bags of silver over my shoulder. When I did turn, I came face to face with the crusader from earlier, the one who translated for his superior. He had his helmet tucked under his arm and waved to me with the other.

* * *

A/N: here's another chapter, sorry for the long absence. more to come! and....a review never hurt a girl... *crosses fingers*


	4. Chapter 4

"You are the girl from earlier, yes? The one who I met outside of Acre?" He stopped before me and bent down to peek under my hood. "Yes, I thought it was you. What are you doing all the way in Damascus by yourself, the crusaders don't have the area secured." I took off my hood but kept my eyes on the ground.

"I'll be all right, you don't have to worry about me." He smiled.

"No, I suppose not, you're one of them- I mean-" His cheeks flushed a little, and I had to force myself not to laugh. Did this crusader have a crush on me? "How's your grandfather? Did you get him home all right?"

"Yes, he's fine now. If you'll excuse me..." I tried to step around him, but before I could make an exit, a volley of shouts erupted from the city gate. My eyes grew wide as I realized what was happening. The city guards, shouting about infidels and assassins... Knowing there was no way that I'd been caught from this distance, I abandoned the crusader and ran for the melee.

It came into sight and I quickly discovered an assassin who could be no older than me, fighting at least six guards off, and not doing too good of a job of it. His white robes were splashed with blood, most likely both his and the guards', but I immediately and without a second thought bolted into the fray. I must've pulled my hood up on instinct, and drawn my sword on it as well, because by the time I was within striking range of the fight I'd already kicked the nearest man in the backs of his knees and buried my sword in his shoulder. The other assassin looked over at me, an unspoken plan instantly forming between us.

We fought back to back, covering each other as we thinned out the ranks of our attackers. Once there were only three or so left, I grabbed his sleeve and turned to run.

"Come on kid," I shouted, but he seemed to want to stay until every last one of them was dead. "Come on!" I paused for a moment, amazed at my ally's stupidity in not escaping while we had the chance. Those brief seconds of wonder were my biggest mistake, for the next moment I felt the searing, instant pain of an arrow piercing through my shoulder. I looked down to see the arrowhead itself protruding from a ragged hole in my robes and the skin underneath, then whipped around to find the archer. It was none other than my French admirer, who had a look of shock on his face comparable to the assassin's that I'd taken this arrow for. I rushed him and leapt into the air, coming down on him before he could string another arrow, and he gasped his disbelief at the fact I was an assassin before I mercifully knocked him unconscious with the hilt of my sword.

This time when I told the kid to go, he followed me closely, and ten minutes later we we sitting in the courtyard of the assassin's bureau catching our breaths. Karif was working on removing the arrow, and I scowled at the reason I'd gotten wounded as he practically cowered on the far side of the space.

"Who is this fool!" I shouted, gritting my teeth when the shaft of the arrow jolted as it was cut. "I could've been killed trying to save him, all because he wanted to fight every damn guard in Damascus!" Karif chuckled.

"This is our brother, the one I was telling you about. A favorite of your father's." The boy looked up suddenly, his hood falling to his shoulders to reveal his face.

"A-Al Mualim is your father?" he asked, clearly in awe. "No wonder you're such a good fighter." Karif held my arm and pulled the longer shaft of the arrow from my back, moving around to my front.

"Altair," he called to the boy, "help me while I pull this arrow out." I shot him a dirty look.

"I can take it, you know that. I don't need some kid to hold me so you can pull it out!" Altair stood and crossed to us, saying angrily,

"I'm not some kid, I'm at least as old as you, you bastard!" I shook my hood off and looked up at him.

"Now, is that any way to talk to a lady?" He was of course shocked to discover my gender, and the laugh I let out at his reaction was of a distraction for Karif to rip the rest of the arrow from me, a little less carefully than he would've one of his 'brothers'. My right eye twitched, the only betrayal of my pain, and I shrugged off both my robe and the gray linen shirt I wore beneath it, so that all I had left on was the white cloth I bound my breasts with. Altair immediately blushed and turned away as I was being bandaged, and I muttered to my doctor a threat about if he'd done any permanent damage to my arm.

"You know, brother Altair, you shouldn't be so shy, you'll be seeing plenty of thismade a fool of at your party."

"W-what?"

"Oh, yes. My father isn't so cruel as to send you out as a real assassin before you've learned what the touch of a woman is like." He glanced back at me and blushed deeper, and I laughed again. "And they're going to make this child a full fledged brother." Now he faced me again.

"I told you I'm not a child! I'm sixteen, you- you stupid little girl!"

"If that's how you determine it, I'm just as grown as you." I stood, checking my bandages, and pulled my shirt back on. "Now, if you'll excuse me, brothers, I've completed my task, and I'd like to go home and get a night's rest. The payment is there, and send notice that I had no choice but to kill the old man. Good night to you both." I climbed up the wall onto the roof and started home from the bureau, blending in with the people as I lacked the energy to sneak across roofs to get home.

***

fast-fowarding memory

***

I waited on the edge of the bed as the party raged on below me, tense not from the anticipation but from my still healing wound. Or so I thought, until I heard footsteps echoing up from the lower level of the library. I stood and opened the door for him, knowing they would have given him more than enough drink before sending him up. He wavered a little as he came in, and I closed the door behind him.

"Altair," I said softly. He jumped at the sound of his name, but calmed and turned to me, a smile on his face.

"Hello," was all he managed. I barely contained my laughter, sitting back down and motioning for him to join me. Once he did he must have remembered why he was here, because the goofy smile faded, and he mumbled earnestly, "I- I'm sorry..." I leaned closer to him and undid the ties on his robe, pulling it down over his shoulders.

"It's not your fault. I live the life that has been chosen for me, I cannot change that. Now come, don't think of that any more. Did you enjoy the party?" He nodded, smiling again. I took hold of the hem of his loose undershirt and lifted it over his head, exposing his bare chest. "Do you want to lay down?" He seemed almost unable to talk, simply nodding again and doing so, waiting for me to join him. Before I did, I removed my own shirt, revealing the faintly bloodstained bandages that bound my chest and right shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, gently running his fingers along my collarbone. "If it weren't for me..." This time I lost my composure, laughing lowly. "What?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing. But you've had too much to drink, and you've lost control of your mouth." He looked confused, but I didn't give him much of a chance to think it through, moving closer and kissing him.

***POV CHANGE****

She opened her eyes as the last of the plastic screen slid away from her, sitting up and looking at Mark skeptically. His face had gone red, and he was typing furiously in an attempt not to make eye contact. He muttered something about the wrong timeline and going too far back before she spoke up.

"If you don't mind me asking, what does any of this have to do with your buried treasure?"

"It just so happens that I do mind you asking, so stop yammering and get back in there." Smith cut in. She scowled at him, but did as she was told, waiting for Mark's instructions before she went back in.

"Okay, I think I've finally pinpointed the beginning of the memory sequence we'll need,so we'll send you back in then, okay? Now, it'll have been a couple of years for your ancestor. She'll be in her early twenties I expect. Take a deep breath, and we'll get started."

***

He looked as if he would like to hit me again. Even though I could still taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth and my lip was throbbing were he'd split it, I didn't care.

"You will do as I say, Samirah, as a member of the brotherhood and as my daughter!" I slammed my hands on his desk, leaning forward over them to support myself as I shouted back.

"I absolutely will not submit to this! I've been a brother for six years, and you will not reduce me to such childish treatment now!"

"I am doing what I must as a leader, my treatment of your blunder is hardly childish! You have no choice in the matter!" I pulled away in disgust, retreating to the railing of the balcony that looked over the stairs of the library. His voice lowered as a few of the others glanced upwards, hardly concealing their entertainment at yet another argument between Al Mualim and his contentious daughter. "How arrogant to consider yourself a brother, you are nothing more than a woman, a mere pawn for the brotherhood to use as it sees fit. The only reason I let you live was because I thought I could make some use of your 'unique' talents, once developed, but you've become a danger to us all. You need direct supervision, my dear, and I intend to give it to you before your sloppy tactics burn what I've built to the ground."

"Sloppy? Of all insults you would call me sloppy?!" I turned to face him again. "I have done nothing but what you've asked of me, my loyalty has been unquestionable and my work impeccable. Tell me something, father," I stressed the word, knowing how he hated it, "how many times have your other men been caught or killed or the like? How many times has your precious Altair nearly exposed the entire brotherhood over his bloodlust?"

"The mistakes of others are not what we are discussing, every brother knows not to speak no matter the torture. **Every** brother knows not to let an outsider see their face. And not only did you expose yourself, to a crusader nonetheless, but you let him evade you for five years. Five years! And now they're at our very doorstep, because of what you refer to as a small lapse in judgment." I sighed, my argument clearly going nowhere. I approached his desk again, speaking lowly so only he could hear.

"I told you, I was saving _his_ ass, I had a fucking arrow through my chest! Escaping alive with your favorite in tow was my priority, not killing off foreigners! If you'd explain to him the subtlety required by assassins instead of letting him run around the kingdom doing whatever he wants, maybe I could spend a little more time cleaning up after him!" I paused and added as an afterthought, "... And maybe he could spend a little less time kissing your ass to make up for it..."

This time he did move to hit me again, but I snared his wrist in my hand, stopping him. He looked surprised, not that I'd anticipated his blow, but that I'd stood up to him in this manner. Granted it was an unspoken rule that no one contradicts Al Mualim and I'd been arguing with him for years, but this was a step further that even I realized as a mistake. Not that I could back down now.

"What do you think you're doing?" he practically gasped, infuriated. He yanked his arm from my grip. His hand fell to the hilt of his sword, and my eyes grew wider, searching for a way out of this quickly deteriorating situation.

"I- you were going to hit me-"

"You..." he said in a deep growl. I could see his rage building, actually filling up inside him until he would explode.

"Father..." Big mistake. He drew the sword slashing at me so that I almost wasn't able to dodge the cut.

"You are dismissed from this brotherhood!" He shouted at the top of his voice. I was struck speechless, and he stormed around the desk at me, looking fearsome with his sword bared despite his age. "Get out of my sight before I strike you down where you stand!"

"But-"

"Get OUT!" I didn't wait for him to say it a third time, backing a safe distance from him, then vaulting over the railing onto the middle of the staircase. I hardly had time to see the castle guards snickering at me as I sprinted off the grounds, not waiting for my father to give an execution order to someone before I could disappear from Masyaf.

I took my horse, mounting almost without stopping, then spurring him on immediately. But as I rode into the open expanse of the kingdom, I realized I had nowhere to go, nothing but the clothes I was wearing and the weapons I carried. And of course Halim, but it wasn't much to live by. Not knowing where else to go, I slowed past a group of soldiers and adjusted my course away from Damascus. Soon enough I arrived at a familiar city gate and dismounted, tying Halim's reins to a post between two other horses and approaching the gates garrison of guards.

Both sets of them let me pass with the few groups of others passing into and out of the city, and once I was inside I paused for another moment. The smell of the sea filled my nostrils on a gust of wind, and as if it had made my mind up for me, I approached one of the guards patrolling the street.

"What do you want?" I hesitated, my french still shaky enough for me to be somewhat unsure.

"I need you to take me to Monsieur de Montferrat." He looked surprised at this, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. 'Great,' I thought, 'the last thing I need now is to kill a guard and draw attention to myself.'

"Seigneur William? What business could a muslim scholar have with him?" He was staring hard at me, but I kept my face concealed under my hood.

"No, I need... I need find Monsieur René, le fils du regent." Now the man was intrigued.

"Now what business would someone have with René?" He lunged for me, trying to pull my hood back, but I sidestepped him and drew my sword as he teetered forward, the hilt coming down on the back of his head hard enough to make him cry out.

"You don't get to ask me any questions, crusader," I spat in english, my better language. "Take me to King Richard's citadel now or I will kill you." As the guard regained his balance I could read the fear in his eyes, the fact the fact that assassin might as well be on a sign around my neck at this point.

"I- I won't help you," he stuttered. "I won't." I sheathed my sword and pulled my hood down, smiling and saying calmly,

"Do not worry, crusader, Monsieur René knows me quite well." At the discovery that I was indeed a woman, his attitude toward me greatly changed, and in less than five minutes my hood was replaced and we were passing through the doors to the inner rooms of the citadel.

"This is the Monsieur's chamber," the gaurd pointed, then turned and left without another word. I made a mental note of the man's face, reminding myself to dispose of him later, but there were larger tasks at hand. I knocked on the thick wooden door three times, a muffled call in french coming from inside.

"Enter." The door creaked as I pushed it open, finding a slim man facing a smoldering fire with his back to the doorway. Crossing the threshold silently and closing the door behind me, I smirked and muttered,

"It is a fool who trusts so that he does not look to see who enters his chamber. You could be dead already..." His head snapped up from his quiet concentration and he turned to me, his blue eyes lighting up and a smile starting on his lips.

"Samirah..." His words were almost a whisper, and my response was the same breathy sigh.

"René..." In an instant he had crossed the room, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around my neck, pulling my hood back in the same motion as drawing me to him and kissing me. I raised a hand and ran it gently down his cheek before he tasted the blood on my lip and pulled away, eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you doing here? It's dangerous for you to be in Acre, no less the citadel. Did something happen?" He let go of me and I sagged against the wall, smirking.

"You need not worry about me. I can handle a few crusaders."

"You take too many risks, mon amour, if your brothers saw you here-"

"René!" I said sharply. " I came from Masyaf. No one followed me, but I..." I hesitated, almost afraid to state the truth out loud. As if not admitting to it made it less true. "Did you tell your father anything that I told you?"

"Well, I didn't exactly... it was-"

"So you did," I sighed. "René, My father has expelled me from the brotherhood of assassins. He only knows that I spared your life, but I can't offer you protection anymore. As it is, I need to go into hiding." He stroked my hair gently, brushing a stray piece from my face.

"To quote someone I know, 'you need not worry about me'. I think in this situation, I can offer you the protection. You're finally free of them, Samirah, you just need a little time to let your head clear. But his optimism wasn't reaching me, my brain returning over and over to the last thing I'd tried to say to my father.

'But the only way out of the brotherhood is death.'

* * *

A/N: before I forget, I picked some of the names to have meanings, so I figured I'd translate them for you. Samirah- entertaining companion, Karif-born in autumn (not much meaning to that one...) and Halim(Samirah's horse)- gentle or patient. so that's that. Currently editing another chapter right now, so it should be up soon. As always, I appreciate the reviews, even if they aren't necessarily pleasant ones...


	5. Chapter 5

She rose from the fog of the animus slowly, the voices coming in clips and phrases.

"useless.... not an assassin..."

"No... knew Montferrat...."

"... no consequence... terminate...." She opened her eyes and found Johann standing over her while Mark and Smith argued in the background.

"Welcome back," Johann flashed a toothy smile. "You'll want to stay right there, milady, until the good doctor decides what he wants to do with your line of investigation." Leila smiled back.

"Well, my dear hulk, I do believe that is the most intelligent thing I've heard you say during our entire time together." His smile only widened.

"Probably gonna get rid of you, you know. You really struck some bad luck in the gene pool with that one." She looked over as the other two stopped arguing, then glanced back up to Johann.

"I absolutely agree, Dr. Banner. You know, my mother said I must've done something horrible in a past life to deserve the karma I have. I guess now I know-" Mark cut her off, his face a display of distress.

"Get out of the way, you oaf," he muttered at Johann. "You can get up Leila, we're done for today." She stood, facing the young doctor on the far side of the animus, looking at him blankly with a surprising sense of courage.

"So, is it curtains for me, or what? I don't think I can take the suspense." Even Leila was shocked as the words came out of her mouth, not knowing where her brazen behavior was coming from. Mark came around the animus and grabbed her arm, leading her roughly into her room and waiting for the door to close behind them.

"What do you think you're doing? Egging him on like that? I told you how little they value your life!" She wrenched free from his grip but didn't back down, meeting his eyes.

"You know there's surveillance in here, you didn't have to wait for the door to close."

"That's not-"

"What you're talking about doesn't matter. You made it perfectly clear that anyone in this 'Abstergo' company, whatever it is, has no issue with disposing of me at any time. Hell, they kidnapped me right in front of my fucking job! So what's a few smart ass comments in the grand scheme of things if I'm not leaving this place alive one way or another?" Mark sighed and stepped away, leaning his back against the wall next to the door.

"Well, you're right, I suppose. But Leila... this isn't like you. Are you feeling all right? Do you have a fever or...." He moved around her, leading her to sit down on the edge of the bed. She sat silently as he unwrapped the bandages on her hand and looked for some sign of infection. But finding none his gaze returned to her face, looking more worried than before.

"What?"

"Leila, have you... have you been feeling strange at all lately?" She shook her head, but he didn't look convinced. "Leila, you have to tell me, even if it's something you think is stupid. This is important!" She paused, hesitating, then said,

"I've been... dreaming a lot."

"Dreaming? What sort of dreams?"

"They're vivid. Like they're actually happening. Which isn't really strange... except that doesn't happen every night, does it?"

"... Not usually."

"And I suppose it's not good that they're about her, is it?" His face lit up with surprise.

"Your ancestor?" He let go of her now re-bandaged hand and grabbed her by both shoulders, saying intensely, "You have to tell me what they're about! This could be a matter of life and death, Leila, you have to try and remember!" Her eyes locked with his and she said in a low voice she suspected the camera in the corner couldn't hear.

"It won't be that hard."

It took the better part of an hour for him to exhaust all of his questions, probing for anything he thought might prove useful. Though she wanted to help him out, for the sake of her own life no less, she found herself feeling somewhat reluctant as he asked some of his questions.

"So you don't remember anything about a treasure, or an artifact that the crusaders wanted."

"No."

"Nothing Montferrat said, or your ancestor might have overheard in Acre?" Leila shook her head.

"Nothing."

"But you said she's still in contact with Altair?"

"Yes. At least twice, maybe more. But some of the time its hazy, I can't see the faces..."

"But you're sure?"

"Yes." He nodded and patted her on the shoulder, then stood to leave. As the door to the main room opened, Leila called out, stopping him briefly. "Mark?" He turned back and looked at her without saying anything.

"D'you think that'll be enough? So they won't, you know..." His eyes dropped, avoiding hers for a moment.

"It'd be better if you knew more..." there was a pause as he waited for her to add anything, and she remained silent. "But you should, uh, be all right." He flashed her a weak smile and left, and she sunk down into a lying position on the bed. Mulling over the dreams and what Mark had said in her head, she mumbled to herself,

"So they have other people like me... but I wonder if this means I'm the only one having dreams. Or acting weird." She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms in the air, wincing as the stiff joint in one elbow popped loudly. Bringing her hands back down, she folded one over the other, holding the still bandaged fingers to her chest. "Or getting ghost injuries and having fingers disappear, for that matter." Leila closed her eyes, when the door opened, and a deep baritone filled the room.

"Well, milady, it seems you've gotten a reprieve on that death sentence. For now, at least." She sat up, scooting to the far side of the bed from Johann as the door slid shut behind him.

"You know, I meant to ask you, why do you call me that... milady? What, did they pull you straight out of the past with that Animus?" He smiled, a gesture that gave her the chills.

"It's called chivalry, something I thought a lady with friends like yours would have heard of."

"Friends like mine?" She laughed uneasily. "Like René de Montferrat? You know they're not people I know, right? Those people are all dead, for like hundreds of years." His grin only widened.

"Now that-" He sat on the edge of the bed, "-is all a matter of opinion." Leila scooted a bit further, but Johann turned and grabbed her ankle, keeping her in place.

"What's up with you? You weren't this smart before." She realized this comment was a mistake as soon as it left her mouth, and his grip tightened on her leg.

"Just because I did not speak does not mean I lacked the intelligence to do so." He grabbed her calf with his other hand and dragged her across the bed, climbing up and pinning her to the mattress with speed she didn't think someone his size would have.

"Now as I was saying, whether or not the people you've met in the animus are alive or not is a matter of opinion. Think of it this way... your ancestor and all of her memories are still in your DNA, aren't they? And as long as you're alive, that DNA is the living, thriving memory of everything that she was. I mean, when someone's family member dies, they do say their memory 'lives on' with those left, right?" Afraid of what he'd do if she disagreed, Leila nodded.

"So as long as you're alive, those people are alive." She lay absolutely still, trying to form a plan of escape from this, but panic driving all other thought from her mind.

'Oh my God, he's going to do it, this time, he really will do it,' The thought kept repeating in her head, immobilizing her even as Johann pressed his mouth to hers in a forceful kiss. It only lasted a few seconds before the door slid open and the sound of someone clearing their throat made the muscled man sit up. He still straddled her waist, holding her down, but she let out a held breath as Dr. Smith drawled,

"Are you quite done? We have work to do." Johann turned and grinned before climbing off of Leila, leaving the room without another word. She lay there for a minute until Smith spoke again. "I _said_ there was work to do. Get up or I'll assume you're asking for me to call Johann back in." Leila got up and straightened herself out quickly, unable to meet Mark's worried gaze as she laid on back on the animus.

"Leila," he whispered as he began to prep the machine, "Are you okay?" She closed her eyes and choked back a sob that threatened to spill out of her throat.

"Can we just get this over with?" Her voice was little more than a whisper itself, and soon enough Leila was dropping into the pleasant blue haze that was the animus mainframe.

* * *

A/N: So it's been a while, and I know this chater is short, but I felt that the entirety of the next chapter as I wrote it was a bit long to put in as one chapter. So I broke it up, and the rest shall be posted later today, when I get home from my class. So enjoy, and be ready to go back into the animus... and review of course... I don't want to have to send samirah after anyone...


	6. Chapter 6

***

There was something happening outside, some kind of muffled, repeating noise. It rang out over and over again in the night air, but it was rather warm in this bed, and I could still feel René's arm around me, the steady beat of his heart against my back. Once I realized this intrusive sound was the city alarm bell, though, sleep instantly deserted me. I sat up, turning to the man still sleeping beside me, and began to shake his shoulder.

"René. René, wake up."

"What is it?" He asked groggily.

"The bell. Something has happened." His eyes shot open.

"Is it-"

"I don't know," I interrupted, already knowing what he meant. "But I'm going to find out." I climbed from bed, picking my clothes up from the floor and getting dressed.

"I'm coming with you." He stood as well, searching for his own clothing, but I turned and pushed him back to a sitting on the edge of his bed.

"No. If the whole city's on alert, it's probably the brotherhood. Even if it's not, someone important has died. No one knows you're here, you'll be safe if you stay."

"That's why I have to come with you, you're the one they're after. Not me."

"I'll be fine. You're more important than this, René." I adjusted my sword on my hip, pulled up my hood, then turned to him. "Please, do this for me." He took one of my hands and squeezed it, the expression on his face changing.

"All right. For you Samirah, I will stay. But you will come back to me, yes?" I smiled a little, pulling from him and crossing to the door.

"Of course." As I was stepping out, adjusting my cloak to hide my weapons, I remembered the look in his eyes and looked back. "René."

"Yes?"

"I pray that your father is alive and well, and that I may bring back this news for you." His smile was a sad one.

"Thank you, Samirah." I shut the door silently behind me and was soon on the street below the citadel. With a surprising stroke of good luck, the first guard to run past me was a man I recognized, and I pulled my hood down and shouted to him. He trotted back to me, asking in a harsh wheeze what I wanted, and without saying a word, I gave him his answer. My hidden blade flung blood onto the dirt as it retracted, and I was down the street and around the corner before he fell and met with it.

It was as I moved through the streets I realized that it was already morning. The most enterprising merchants were filling the streets, on their way to set up for the day. Keeping my eyes open for anything unusual, namely anyone that looked like me, at first proved fruitless, but when a sense of being watched caused me to rethink my lack of throwing knives, my luck changed. At such an early hour there were hardly any thugs to steal from, so I adjusted my method and bumped into one, hard enough to make the both of us fall. I made sure he noticed I was a woman, acting almost on the verge of tears as I sat in the dirt, and stealing a glance up to the rooftop just in time to see a white robed figure slide back out of sight. The overweight man grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, and I took this chance to bump into him again, taking his pouch full of knives and slipping it beneath my cloak before he even noticed, then continuing on my way.

But no sooner had I formulated a plan to draw my pursuer out than he preempted me, leaning against a wall as I turned a corner onto a street where most of the houses were still burnt remains from the battle for the city.

"Good morrow, sister." I stopped in my tracks, looking around me to find the street almost completely empty. Beneath my cloak, my hand tightened on the hilt of my sword, preparing to draw when the inevitable attack would come.

"Good morrow. It's a pleasure to see you on this morning. But may I ask what you're doing in Acre, brother?"

"You know what we're doing in Acre." I could sense the beginnings of laughter in his voice, and in the next moment, our swords clashed with a loud clang.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that. I was mistaken, and had intended to return to Masyaf today to apologize to Al Mualim." I pulled back, waiting for his attack, then countering. His style was increasingly familiar, as was his voice, but I struggled to place it as sleep still clouded my brain.

"You're quite past apologies. Al Mualim has already given the order." This time I lunged forward on the attack, but his counter was quicker, and he caught the back of my cloak, throwing me off balance. I rebounded on the wall, turning to block his strike, holding him off with considerable effort. "Don't worry though, I have no intention of ending your life here. No, you still have some time to live, but you will wish yourself dead long before your father grants you that mercy." It was his laugh after this that gave his identity away.

"Karif?"

"Yes. When the bureaus were informed of the order, I was the first to volunteer. I wanted to see the look on your face when you found this." He pulled back, and from the nearest alley, another assassin appeared, throwing a body from over his shoulder to the ground.

It was William de Montferrat.

"Your dear friend Altair disposed of him just a short while ago, sister. We knew when you heard the bell, you would come searching for news of his safety." Sheathing my sword, I slipped my hands back out of sight under my cloak and carefully palmed a knife in throwing position.

"Why would I care about that crusader scum? Him and his people took this city from us, burnt it, killed those who resisted and oppressed those who did not. It is a fair deed brother Altair has done disposing of him." Karif burst into laughter again, sheathing his sword and clapping loudly.

"What an excellent performance, Samirah. But do you really think that I wasn't told that this dead 'crusader scum' is the father of your lover?" I faltered, unaware that anyone had known this. Outside of myself, René, and of course the dead man in front of me. Now angry, I pushed my cloak back, throwing the knife in my hand expertly and quickly enough to lodge in the neck of the man who'd carried the dead William out for display. But while my concentration was on this act, Karif shot forward, quicker than I remembered him being, and grabbed a handful of my hair. He pulled back hard on it, slowly walking me backward until I was against the wall he'd been waiting for me by.

"Didn't I tell you that you weren't the target today? We just came to let you know you can't hide, sister. You didn't have to go and kill my newest student." He was speaking through clenched teeth, apparently I'd angered him. Good.

"You mock me this way and think I won't retaliate? You must be more stupid than you appear." Karif narrowed his eyes and raised his other hand taking my scabbed over bottom lip in between two of his fingers.

"We mock you? You've been making a mockery of the _brotherhood_ since you became a member." He squeezed the cut until it burst, bleeding anew, then let go so I could taste the blood in my mouth. "I'll ask you to calm down now, and keep your hands to yourself, for the morning's show is not quite over yet. Malik, bring out the boy." From the same alley as before, I was both impressed and horrified by what emerged. My father was serious indeed if the head of both Damascus' and Jerusalem's bureaus had come, but Malik was practically dragging along a bruised and bloodied René, who'd obviously put up a fight.

"René!"

"We found this... boy wandering the streets, looking for something," Karif muttered low enough so only I could hear. I glanced at him, recognizing the hatred for me glittering in his eyes.

"Karif, no."

"Oh, now you try to tell me what to do? You think you have that power, sister?" I clenched my teeth as he yanked at my hair again, and René called out.

"Don't worry about me, Samirah. I won't let them get away with murdering my father and abusing a woman like this." Malik and Karif laughed at this, and I spat bitterly,

"You don't know what you're talking about, René. You couldn't fight them off if you tried." I looked over to Malik. "Brother Malik, I have always respected you, and considered you a friend. Please believe me when I say this man has nothing to do with any of this. Your quarrel, Al Mualim's quarrel is with me, not him. He can't even fight, his father was keeping him close to protect him from assassins that prey on the weak in their own homeland. Please, just let him go-"

"Listen to how she begs, Karif," Malik said, breaking eye contact. "I have not heard her plead in such a feminine voice since the last gathering in Masyaf." Karif laughed, and the confused look on René's face was enough to set me into action. I would not have them explain that part of my life to him. I let out a small moan of pain, a sound so unexpected it drew everyone's attention back to me. In the moment of Karif's confusion, my hidden blade made its second kill of the night, sliding deep into Karif's abdomen with a sound I hadn't found so satisfying ever before. I kicked his body away from me and sprinted for Malik, pulling another knife out as I closed the distance.

"Too slow." I hardly noticed as Malik climbed to the roof and escaped. My gaze was locked with René's, the look in his eyes still to confused to really register what had happened.

"René," was all I could manage, and the sound seemed to snap the both of us out of our trances. He winced, falling to his knees and catching himself on all fours. I dropped to my knees beside him, helping him up from the ground and pressing a hand to his stomach. Malik's blade had no doubt pierced René's kidney, and despite his brave front, I knew he must be in pain.

"René, why did you come after me, you were safe in the castle!" He smiled, a pained expression.

"I was worried about you... I apologize... Samirah-" I cut him off.

"You don't have to say anything, René. It's I who should apologize, I brought you into all of this, if it weren't for my stupidity, you and your father would be safe." He pushed me away, falling to his but in the dirt and letting out a grunt of pain. His gaze suddenly changed, hardening and his voice was harsh when he spoke.

"Don't start apologizing, Samirah. You know as well as I do what we were doing, and that it would end up this way."

"What we were..." He stifled a cough, touching his wound and looking at the blood on his fingers.

"Your brotherhood wanted to know about King Richard's plans, and we needed to know about the brotherhood."

"You were using me?" I stood, shocked to find out something I perhaps should have seen long ago.

"Don't play naive. You know just as well as I do that we were using each other. So what's a little happiness in the face of grim work?" I stumbled back a few steps, my foot coming to rest on something glaringly white in the dust. Looking down, I discovered a single feather, a token that would not be left accidentally. I stooped to pick it up, finally looking back at Rene, who was now barely conscious, laying on his back and breathing in heavy, rasping breaths. I approached him, kneeling next to him once more.

"You're right, Rene. I've come to realize of late that one such as me cannot have the life of a normal person. I am an assassin, brotherhood or not, and you are my enemy." I drew a knife, lowering it to his neck. "I pray that you find peace in the afterlife, Crusader." He closed his eyes, and just before I completed the kill, he whispered,

"And may you find peace as well, mon seul amour." In moments the feather was stained and I stood, sliding my knife back into place and making my way away from the bloody scene. I didn't bother heading back toward the citadel, Acre was no longer safe for me now that the regent and his son were dead. In reality I had nowhere in the kingdom that would be safe, but at least one of the brotherhood's messages had reached me clearly. I could not hide from Al Mualim. My father had the land in the palm of his hand, and I would be dead when and where he decided.

I didn't realize until the wind blew my hood back as Halim galloped full speed through the kingdom that I had tears streaming drying in cold tracks on my cheeks.

* * *

A/N: There's the rest. another kind of short chapter, but together it's a longer piece. let's see.... translation... mon seul amour=my only love. in french of course. So dear Rene didn't have a large part in the story like I'd originally planned, i did love the idea of his character so... but I'm thinking that he'll have a bit of lasting influence on Samirah and her actions. anyways, let me know how you liked the two parted chapter this time, and I'll see what I can do about a bit more for you to read


	7. Chapter 7

fast-fowarding memory

* * *

I was being followed. Of that, I was sure. Not that the occurrence was new, I'd been tracked periodically since my last day in Acre. Karif had said they were delivering a message to me, and I had understood it immediately. No matter where I went, the assassins would know, and when Al Mualim was done playing with me, he would send the final word for my death. I smiled a little as I thought to myself,

'Well, at least I took a few of them out. And my father would be stupid indeed to think that I wouldn't take a few more of his precious underlings before I went down.' As I turned a corner onto a packed street full of merchants and shoppers, I realized that today felt different. Reason tried to blame it on the town, I hadn't dared set foot back in Damascus for months, but something wouldn't let me dismiss the feeling fully. I stopped at a street vendor, using the chance to scan the crowd around me for familiar faces. There was, of course, a glimpse of a white hood snaking back around the corner and out of sight.

I ignored the man at the stall as I turned and left him annoyed by not buying anything, taking advantage of the few moments he wouldn't be able to see me to put some distance between us, pulling the scarf down from my head so that the pale green fabric wouldn't draw attention. Sliding effortlessly between people and around carts and stalls, I blended in long enough to slip into a secluded garden, empty, as luck would have it. I leapt onto a bench and used beams and windowsills to leverage myself above street level. From my rooftop perch I caught sight of my persuer, just peering into the garden below before pausing to search the street. I smirked again and started out onto a beam that spanned the street, only to have my luck turn as he looked up.

I froze for a moment, eyes locked with those of the man below me. His face was cast in the harsh light of the midday sun, and judging from the squinted confusion on it, I was completely cast in shadow. But there was no doubt he realized I was who he was looking for, and it only took a second for me to snap back to reality and react.

I sprinted forward, counting on speed to overcome my loss of balance as I tried to capitalize on the time it would take him to climb to roof level. Gardens and ladders blurred by, useless as I was being chased by someone who assumedly knew all of my tricks, but an opportunity suddenly appeared to my right.

"Hey! You're not allowed up here!" I stopped, forced tears into my eyes, and looked as if I was nearly ready to collapse at the guard's feet.

"Please you have to help me! There's a man following me, he killed my husband, he's going to kill me!" His attitude changed immediately, sending me off behind him to safety, and drawing his sword. Now relieved of running, I sneaked behind the minaret my 'savior' had been guarding, climbed up to a ledge I could perch upon and waited, unseen.

The fight between assassin and guard was fairly short, but thankfully I hadn't been counting on a city guard to do his job. As the robed figure began to search the area for signs of where I'd gone, I'm sure he was surprised to find the knife in his chest. Back on the street, I smiled to myself as I thought of how lovely a way it was to let the brotherhood know that I was back in Damascus.

I found my old home in worse shape than I thought, apparently no one had used it since I'd left, and likewise no one had bothered taking care of the place. But being abandoned in almost the exact condition I'd walked out in last, underneath a layer of dust I found clothes and the most comfortable bed I'd had in weeks. I admittedly let myself slip, falling into a troubled sleep within minutes of telling myself that the corner with my bed in it was the best place in the house to keep watch and defend against unwanted visitors. At least I'd put my knife under the pillow first.

There was someone there. I could sense him in the darkest corner of the room. I could smell him too. Sweat and excitement and a little fear that maybe he didn't even notice. My hand was already under the pillow, and as he approached it gripped the handle of the dagger tighter, preparing for him. He stopped for a moment at the edge of the bed, and my anger finally pushed me to ruin the ruse that I was asleep.

"So he's finally sent someone to finish the job, then." He breathed in sharply, almost a gasp but too controlled by his training.

"A woman?" I opened my eyes even though I was still facing away from him, and let out one scornful humph.

"You didn't know? You poor uninitiated boot licker." That angered him, and I heard the swoosh of air as he raised his blade. "Do it then," I taunted. I rolled and raised my own knife and the two blades met. In a few seconds, it was clear that his strength would best mine, so I gave one final push and slid out of his knife's way. I was on my feet in a flash, leaping at him before he had a chance to ready himself. He grunted as we hit the floor, but quickly recovered and rolled so that I was pinned. In this moment, the moonlight caught his face and I instantly recognized him, my resolve hardening. Apparently he neither remembered me or was prepared to kill a woman, for he stopped with his secret blade a hair's width from my throat and hissed menacingly,

"Who are you to mock the brotherhood? What have you done to anger Al Mualim so?"

"Does it matter what I've done, now that he's ordered me dead?"

"Tell me!" His voice gained a hint of urgency, and I smiled.

"Oh, I see. You're making the move on your own, but you need to make sure you're getting the right person... is he angry with you as well?" He growled and I heard his blade retract, hardly feeling the flat of his hand as it made contact with my cheek. But he froze when the sensation of my own hidden blade poised to strike registered in him.

"So you are the right one... thought you could get away with stealing a few secrets, did you?

"I find it hard not laughing at your stupidity, Altair."

"How do you know my name?"

"I know more than you think. But that's not the issue now, is it?" I let the smile slip off of my face and my knee connected with his groin, using his pain to roll him off me and get to my feet. As he struggled to get to his knees, I kicked him in the side, throwing him back on the ground. I finally bent and pulled him up by his hood, dagger to his throat from behind. "Your eagerness blinds you, and your ignorance astounds. You're a disgrace to the brotherhood, don't ever set foot in my house again or I will kill you." I released him and he stood, still a bit hunched over.

"Why don't you kill me now? I will come for you again, you know this, correct?" I smirked.

"I'm counting on it. You see, I want two things from you. One, to see how far Al Mualim can punish you for being beaten by me, and two, to kill you when you're actually giving your all. Now get out of here before I change my mind." He backed toward the door, and I waved my hand. "Go on, get out! I'm not going to strike a brother when he's not looking, I have a sliver of dignity." He finally turned, and as his boot heels retreated down the hall and to the stairs, I called after him. "I'll be looking forward to being followed by you, Altair! Be sure to try your best from now on, and this could prove to be very interesting for both of us!"

Once he was gone, I sat back on the bed, frowning. How was it that he wouldn't remember me at all, when I could recall every meeting the two of us had? It was really just another testament to his incompetence, right? I should be happy at this, if the fool couldn't remember me, then how much of a threat could he really be? But the thought gnawed away at my mind that his ignorance was somehow different than common stupidity. As long as I'd known him he'd shown some signs of the latter, but more along the lines of throwing common sense to the wind in favor of brutishness. He'd never truly been stupid through and through, but somehow all memory of my existence had been wiped from him.

"This has to have something to do with Al Mualim," I muttered aloud, almost jumping at the sound of my own voice in the tomb-like silence of the house. And as I had that thought, a plan started to formulate in my head. Expelling me from the brotherhood altogether, sending two bureau leaders to do no more than taunt me, and now somehow controlling the minds of his men, my father had to be up to something more serious, and seeing Altair had put me just in the mood to find out what that was.

The next days seemed more exciting, though I simply went about a fairly normal series of activities. But the mere thought of being tracked by both Altair and another assassin, both of which knew I knew about them seemed to add an air of anticipation to it all. Just going to the market became a multi-dimensional game of keep up and don't get caught, and I delighted in trying to force myself into positions where my two followers would see each other, though without avail. I even taunted Altair at every possible opportunity, acting as if I were making fun of the qualities of thugs on the street or beggars as I knew he could hear me. But finally I grew weary of these games, and around noon a week after our last meeting, I climbed a ladder to the rooftops in the middle district of the city. Of course, my nameless tracker was the first to make his move, thinking I was making a move to escape him, and after a short chase I had cornered myself in a deserted alley near the city wall.

"Going somewhere?" He asked in a mocking tone.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about... what do you want from me?" I tried to sound as scared as possible, giving him a second of doubt in which he wasn't sure he had followed the right woman. In that instant, I sprang forward, pinning him to the ground and pulling one of his own knives from his belt to slash his throat. Thankfully, I hadn't gotten too out of practice, remembering to get out of the way before the poor fool's blood stained my clothes. With Altair close by, I figured he would at least have the brains left to continue his brother's reports to Al Mualim, so I left the body and emerged back onto the street. I was almost back to the most crowded of the streets when finally my game caught up for me.

"You know Al Mualim only has so much patience for his men being killed." I smiled, loosening the scarf from around my head and letting it fall back, and leaning against the nearest wall casually.

"So you've kept track of that, at least. Did you have to get that from Malik? Or that one I just killed?" Something flashed through his eyes at the mention of Malik, and despite everything, I felt a small surge of worry bite at the pit of my stomach.

"It wasn't hard to figure it out after our last meeting. I hadn't been told who'd done them all, but it's pretty obvious now."

"You're a genius, Altair. No wonder Al Mualim loves you so much. I'm sure you'll be duly rewarded for this, by the man himself. Perhaps, in his private quarters..."

"Watch your mouth, woman."

"Offended you, have I? Come and punish me then, so insolent I am."

"I will." He took a few steps toward me, but seemed disconcerted by my lack of preparation for a fight.

"Now is not the time for this. You and I both know that if you take me without the word being sent, and it is found out that you knowingly let a brother get killed before doing so, you'll be in a bad spot. Run on home to Masyaf now, and deliver the news. I'm sure you'll return with what you want." Now he smiled, a chilling look on such an otherwise serious face, and closed the rest of the distance between us, pressing me against the wall and wrapping a strong hand around my throat.

"You do not tell me what to do, and you do not mock the brotherhood. Who do you think you are?" The more I provoked him, the more playful I felt, so I met his hard stare and answered without my previous self assurance.

"That's a good question..." His grip tightened for a moment, then he let go and took a step back, unsure.

"You... I've seen you before... somewhere..." I smiled a little, more to myself than for him to see.

"Have you, now? I think someone like you would remember a face if he saw one... you don't look like one who easily forgets." Some of the anger came back to his voice when he spoke lowly,

"I don't."

"Then what's wrong? Do you know me, or not?" I waited in anticipation, either he would remember something, or he would go back to question Al Mualim. Either way, it was a start to what was happening, and all I had to do now was manage not to mess it up.

"I..." he paused, then looked up, our eyes meeting through the gloom his hood supplied. For that moment we just stared, and as time seemed to stretch on indefinitely, I had the overwhelming feeling that I also knew him from somewhere else, somewhere I couldn't quite recall. Finally he snapped out of it, coming closer to mutter a final threat before taking off in a purposeful stride.

"Watch yourself, woman. I'll be back for you."

She opened her eyes to the grey ceiling tiles, letting out a sigh of held breath and sitting up. Mark and Smith were at the latter' desk, speaking in hushed tones, but as she swung her legs over the side of the machine, Johann was at her side again.

"Anything interesting this time, milady? The good doctor grows quite tired of your procrastinating ways, you know. Best to produce something, and fast." She smiled widely, a genuinely happy gesture that sent a chill down the larger man's spine, then spoke in a voice that was almost as whisper.

"Why, Conrad, how glad I am to see you here. To think you were by my side all along and I failed to recognize you. I apologize, mon frère." His eyes lit up with a smile, but it progressed no further.

"I thought you would never recognize me."

"Oh Conrad, I could never forget you. Just try and remember, I haven't been... myself, lately." His eyes narrowed, skeptical of her. "So did they put your ancestor through this same process to bring you here?"

"Of course."

"And did you finally give in and follow someone else's lead out of simple curiosity? Or was it something more along the lines of your duty as a Templar?" Now a smile touched his lips.

"You've started figuring things out..." She nodded, then her eyes grew dark and her voice dropped so only Johann could hear it.

"That's all well and good, mom frère, but you do remember your duty to your father and brother, don't you?"

"My duty?"

"Oh, my. Dear René must be turning in his grave to think that you've forgotten that you promised to look after me if he could not."

"I never promised to look after you. I-"

"Oh that's right. But you did swear to protect the heir to your family's name." He laughed aloud.

"You must think I'm stupid. You may have convinced father and René that you were carrying his child then, but there's no way you can be now. I owe nothing to you."

"Conrad, Conrad, Conrad... I wouldn't dare insinuate that you were unintelligent. I am merely saying that it seems to me that your ancestor probably has no heirs. And in the present situation, it seems I may need a helping hand in the case of an unpleasant occurrence or two, and that I could be carrying your heir. Now." He searched for a sign of insincerity in her face, but she gave none, and he finally muttered,

"What is it that you require of me?"

"There's the Conrad I know. It's so good to have you back. A familiar face in this world is a great comfort-"

"What do you want?" She heard Mark and Smith stop their conversation, no doubt looking at them for his outburst, and he brought his voice back down. "Let me guess, kill those two and get you out of here safe? I'm afraid that might be beyond my powers."

"No no, nothing of the sort. When Smith dies, I'll be the one doing it. And Mark may be of use to me yet."

"Marcus? Of use? Milady, you have a penchant for the weaklings..."

"Regardless of your opinions... just be around. and when I make my move, I will be counting on you to make sure no alarm is raised. What I'm planning must be quiet." With the sound of footsteps approaching, Johann stood and walked away, retreating to a corner of the room and sinking into a chair, looking as mean as ever. Mark came around her side of the table shortly after and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"How are you feeling? Everything okay?" She nodded but he didn't seem to buy it. "What were you talking about with him?" Finally she broke her silence.

"You knew this whole time how bad the effects could be, didn't you?"

"Wha-"

"Don't try and play me, I know. I've just talked to Johann... Or should I say Conrad?" He remained silent, somewhere between shock and guilt, and she continued. "He was the reason you had to kidnap me, wasn't he? You were using him, but he's completely lost it now, and you needed another victim, didn't you?" He pulled back.

"Leila-"

"No!" She kept her voice low, not wanting Smith to take notice. "He thinks he's Conrad de Montferrat! He's half convinced that I'm my ancestor, and that he should kill me now for being a member of the brotherhood! Are you going to let that happen to me, Marcus?" He visibly flinched at her remark, clenching his jaw and finally putting a hand on her knee.

"I will not let him lay a hand on you. I swear."

"How can you stop him? You're just another Abstergo lackey, if Smith wants it, you'll have to let him..."

"No, I won't. Leila... I'm not one of them. I can't- can't talk about it right now. But when I bring you your meal tonight, I'll tell you everything, okay?" He didn't wait for her to reply, but moved around the other side of the animus and started inputting information once again, speaking in a louder voice full of forced cheerfulness, "Okay, a little more and you'll have hit your limit for today. I'll have a lot of data to interpret anyways, so lay back down, and we'll get going." She laid back, glancing over at the huge desk Smith always sat behind to see him looking as pleased as ever as Johann spoke in low tones with him.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she turned back to the plastic screen and let herself go, trying not to think about the chance that she might be another person completely when she woke up.


	8. Chapter 8

Twilight was beginning to fall over the city, but the souk remained open, bustling still with merchants of goods both upright and immoral. The torches and lanterns beneath the high ceiling were still being lit one by one, giving parts of the structure a deep gloom and leaving the upper reaches above the heads of people as dark as the night sky. It had been almost a week since Altair had threatened me, and still I caught no sign of him in the city. With some level of worry gnawing at the back of my mind I strolled amongst the crowds, giving off the air of the carefree, well to do woman I had once been. But as I stopped to look over a stall selling jewelry and silk scarves, the sign I'd been anticipating for what seemed like ages sounded behind me.

"Hey! What do you think you are doing, stealing from me?" A few people turned to watch the commotion, including the stall's owner, but as a crowd gathered around the fistfight, I moved against the flow, emerging from the the mass and moving along the emptier street. As the sound of the fight receded behind me, I could tell that it had quickly ended, Altair no doubt frustrated by being caught in the act of pick-pocketing and threatening the thug with his sword to scare him off. No matter, I was far enough from the majority of citizens now that I could escape with no trouble, and as soon as I exited the souk I could hear the soft pounding of his quick footsteps behind me.

"Don't run," he called calmly, "face me like the brave woman you claim to be."

"Oh, but it's much more fun to play like this!" He growled in frustration at my games, and sped up, closing some of the distance between us.

I picked up my own pace, coming almost to a run on the nearly deserted streets, and in mere seconds, we were engaged in a full chase. I had the advantages of size and weight on him, dodging passersby and gaining more speed in my agility than he could, but as people began dodging our full speed running, I knew he would catch up, weighed down with weapons or no. One thought filled my mind as he gained the distance back, one gleaming hope for postponing what he had in mind. The souk. I must reach the market. My path made a circuit on the streets as I finally neared my destination, and slipped into the throngs of people.

In the push of the crowd, space closed down around me, and I could feel my heart pounding, hear my uneven breath rushing from my chest. But risking a glance around, I had lost him as well, and cursed softly. That is, until I felt the point of a blade pressed to the small of my back. Suppressing panic as I had been taught to, I froze, awaiting an order, which he gave lowly in my ear.

"Walk. Slowly." I began to move forward, but his hard grip on my arm stopped me short. "Do not cause a scene or try to alert the guard. Try, and you will be dead before they can stop me, and I will still escape. Now go." As we moved through the crowd at almost an ant's pace, he guided me away from the crowd and into a shadowy alcove just off of the main path. In an instant he turned me to face him, capturing both of my wrists in one hand and moving the knife to my neck. Trying to to appear as confident as I had before, I smiled, but when he returned the smirk I faltered.

"I've been given the word, Samirah."

"Did you remember my name on your own, or did he tell it to you?" His smile died.

"That is unimportant. What matters is that you have reached the end of your road. As much as I regret killing a woman, it has been ordered. To think that a woman with no family could possess the gaul to steal from the brotherhood-"

"Take a closer look at me, Altair. Take a moment to lose your assumptions." He did as he was told, studying my face and neck, but becoming visibly shocked when his gaze reached my hands.

"You've been initiated by someone. You've been... How-"

"You really don't remember me... I'm insulted. I was just beginning to like you all over again, you know." He hesitated for a moment, but the smallest hint of a smirk returned and he pressed closer, forcing a knee between my legs. He spoke even softer into my ear ear, and I knew to the people passing by their shadowy spot we looked like a pair of reckless lovers, that his knife was well enough hidden.

"You are going to regret the torment you have put me through these last weeks. I will grant you a quick death, and as painless as I can give someone who has committed the crimes you have." He shifted against me, more of his body coming in contact with mine, and I could feel the weight of him even through the solid mass of the weapons strapped to him. My eyes flicked up to him, and despite the gloom I could now clearly see his whole face. It had been years since I'd seen him so closely, and he'd become quite a good looking man, though I could still see the glimmer of the boy he'd been in his eyes. Once we'd made eye contact I felt my heart begin to beat harder in my chest. I knew he felt it pounding too, not looking away as he spoke.

"As you take your last breath into your body, I want you to know that you've gained my respect. Never has a woman put up such a fight as you, and I've quite enjoyed the little distraction from the mundane you've provided me." I could tell he was still a little out of breath, but with the way he'd cornered me, the way he was so close, could I be sure that was what it was? Could he not be out for more?

"Altair..." my voice died in my throat, leaving his name hanging almost like a moan. He pulled the knife back and lowered it to a spot just below my ribs, ready to strike. A flicker of something like regret washed across his face for a brief moment, and he whispered,

"I'm sorry." I took in a quick breath, instantly transported by his words. Staring at him so closely, I couldn't believe that mere seconds before he would kill me all I could think of was the feel of him against me, the smell of his skin, the way he kissed... He seemed to notice, his grin falling away again.

"You want me? I see, you're one of the brotherhood's women. To think that I'd lower myself to that. You deserve this more than I thought, Samirah, and your shame shall be on your father. And on your ancestors for all time." I snapped back to reality, laughing aloud.

"My dear brother, who do you think pushed me into this life? Who do you think initiated me? I came not by choice." For a moment he was stricken speechless, his shallow breaths the only sound. His heart had slowed almost back to normal, I could tell now that he was recovered, but he was confused.

"What are you saying... Your father is an assassin?"

"Clever, Altair. Clever."

"Who? Karif? ... Malik?"

"They really don't tell you anything, do they?" This angered him, the tip of the blade breaking the skin, drawing enough blood that I knew my clothes would be stained, but as of yet, left alive. "Let me go. Just for now."

"Why should I do that?" I could tell by the sound of his voice he was torn between his want to know who I was and his lust for the kill.

"I will give you the chance to learn. I will tell you everything that you think you already know. Then you can choose for yourself what you will do." He released my hands, but stayed close, pressed against me so that I couldn't move. "Meet me outside the city gates at midnight. I will be waiting." He pulled back a little.

"And if you don't show up?"

"You know where I live. I won't let you down. But for now, let us part ways, no?" After a moment of hesitation, he stepped away from me, slipping his knife back safely and disappearing quickly into the rush of the crowd. For a few seconds, I stared after him, but finally I felt the small prick of pain in my stomach, and looked down at the bright red stain that slowly seeped from the cut he'd given me. With a sigh, I pressed my hands over the shallow wound and pushed away from the wall, heading slowly back toward my home for clean clothes and maybe a few hours of sleep, knowing even though he'd let me go, Altair was still watching me from not too far away.

This time when the blue mist faded she closed her eyes and lay still for a moment, trying to judge if she was still herself, trying to figure how she would know even if she wasn't. When Mark touched her shoulder and asked if she were alright, she finally opened her eyes and sat up. It was darker outside, and she could feel the ache in her bones from the solid slab of the animus, but she looked to the young man and spoke.

"Wait, shouldn't we finish?" He shook his head.

"That's enough for today. I don't want anything to go wrong. Besides the fact, you have to eat. You've barely been eating lately and we can't have you getting sick."

"But something important was going to happen, I can feel it! What about-"

"No!" he snapped uncharacteristically. "I'll take you to your room, bring you your dinner, and that's that!"

"Marcus, if the girl wants more, we should oblige..." Smith chimed in from his desk, not seeming interested in what the turnout was, but Mark had made up his mind.

"We'll overload the machine for one, and the effects would be... Exponentially multiplied for every hour beyond the limit! I'm not losing another person on this project, Doctor, and I will not condone your careless allowance of such!" When he finished his neck had reddened a little, and he was breathing heavily, but he took no notice, roughly taking her by the arm and leading her to her room. The force of him pushing her ahead as the door closed behind them made her stumble, catching herself on the side of the armoire and turning back to him.

"What's wrong with you, Mark, you're acting like-"

"Sit down and listen to me, okay?" His voice had changed again, below its normal tone to a gruff baritone.

"Not until-"

"Sit down." She did as he asked, a bit scared of him in such a volatile state. When he didn't say anything, but continued to stare at the floor, she spoke softly,

"Marcus? What is it?"

"This project... Is a failure. A farce."

"What?" He looked up, his stare moving to the spot on the wall just behind her shoulder.

"There was a woman who worked here that I knew. She did... Well her job title wasn't important, but suffice to say we were a team. We also were uh...

"A couple?" He nodded slowly, then continued.

"That brute out there wasn't our first subject, but they were pressing us to up the frequency of time in the animus, and there wasn't much we could do to say no. He showed no signs of the bleeding effect until it was too late." He stopped again, sounding choked up and refusing to make eye contact, finding the floor tiles very interesting once more.

"He came out of the animus one day, and just lost it. We know now that it was the reaction a person has when two independent personalities are clashing so suddenly in their minds. The moment that the subject becomes incapable of telling reality from the animus' creation, the past from the present. It took six of the security men to hold him down while they sedated him, but he messed up some equipment, and we had to break for a couple of days to work on things. I left, exhausted, and fell asleep, but she stayed to finish up a few things."

"What did he do to her?" She sat forward on the edge of the bed, watching him sink down to a crouch against the wall.

"He- he waited until she brought him his dinner, and he beat her to death. With his bare fists... He used her key to get out and he painted the walls with her blood. If I'd stayed with her..." He fell silent, and she didn't know what to say, watching him clench his hands. "Well he mellowed out afterward, and now he's Smith's best friend. But I can't even bear to think that they're okay with letting a monster like that get away with it. I can't let them turn you into another... Thing like him. And I can't let him hurt you like he did her. I have to protect you this time."

"This time?" she put a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched. "What do you mean? What's so special about me?" He looked up, directly into her eyes for the first time, and they were rimmed with tears.

"You look so much like her... You even have her name. I knew as soon as they brought you in you were my second chance." For a moment, she froze, her breath catching in her throat. This series of coincidences was too many to be just that. There had to be something deeper here, someone working behind the scenes to orchestrate everyone into this. But-

"Leila?" He asked tentatively, his voice wavering. Her attention snapping back to him, she smiled faintly.

"Mark... I knew there was something about you too. I can't describe what it is..." she fell silent, letting the comment hang until I knew he was captivated, something easy to do in low light while he was so worked up. I only had to ease down off the bed and kneel in front of him, hand never leaving his shoulder, and he reacted just as expected.

His fingertips were cold on the back of her neck, tangling in her hair as he pulled her the rest of the way forward, pressing a rough kiss onto her lips. I reacted slowly, bringing my hand up to the side of his face and sliding the other down his chest to the pocket on the front of his lab coat, returning a bit of the kiss before pulling away.

"We can't do this here. They can see us." He let go of her and stood, helping her up.

"You're right. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's okay. Mark... We have to get out of this place."

"We? You can't- I can't possibly-"

"It's going to kill the both of us Mark, we have to!" She touched his arm again, briefly, just to get him to listen to her. "We can do it. With your clearance to the building, we can just walk right out."

"What about Smith... And him?" I smiled.

"Don't worry about them. I haven't been completely disregarding everything in there, you know."

"You mean you're going to-"

"Shh! Don't worry about it. Go, and don't act like anythings' happened. If the doctor says something, tell them I was desperate and scared, and tried to seduce you into letting me escape. Only that didn't work, of course. Now go." He stood and straightened himself out, giving her one last glance as he shut the door behind him. Sitting back on the bed, I smiled to myself, knowing that within moments I'd have another visitor, and like clockwork, the door slid open and an irate Dr. Smith stormed in, not bothering to close the door behind him, Johann's massive size filling most of the doorway.

"What do you think you're doing? You think you can whore your way out of here?" I stood, raising my hands in the air in a shrug, moving to the armoire and leaning against it.

"Come on, doctor. I've been pretty much told that I'm on death row here. You didn't think I'd at least try?" I paused, letting my gaze settle slowly into his eyes. "Unless you're saying I just picked the wrong person..." He shuddered and narrowed his glare.

"As if I would lower myself to such depths. Johann-!" The larger man strode into the room, taking me roughly by the shoulders and leading me out into the main room. The force of his shove practically threw me into the side of the animus, catching myself with a thud and a stifled grunt of discomfort. The doctor once again stepped forward, his smooth demeanor back in place.

"Now then, my dear girl, we are going to finish what we started. Tonight. Get in there."

"But you don't even know how long it will take, we can't-"

"It doesn't matter to me how long it takes, I can record the session and watch it later. All I need is Johann here to stand guard and you can stay for as long as is needed. I'm done dealing with your behavior, my dear, and I will be done with you soon. Now get up there." I stood for a moment, absolutely still except for the hand behind my back that was easing the pen I'd stolen from Marcus out of my sleeve, and just as he sighed and began to turn to Johann, I glanced to him too. His gaze was expectant, and I didn't even have to say anything before he gave a short nod, and I smiled, making my move.

The flesh of his neck gave way easily under the point of my weapon, and the look in his eyes as his hands clamored toward the embedded tool gave me a noticeable chill of pleasure. He stumbled and fell, scooting away from me, gurgling and gasping for breath through the blood pouring from his artery.

"Johann... Stop her..." was all he managed before falling flat onto his back, too weak for any further struggling. I crossed to him, kneeling next to him and looking him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry that I had to do that to you, but it was all I had. It would have taken far too long to do it with my bare hands, but in the absence of blades, I make due... May peace be with you in death." He made one last gurgling noise, his lips mouthing a curse to me, then passed, and I stood, Smith's pass in my hand. "Now then, Conrad, let's get out of here, shall we?" He simply stood staring at me, and I sighed, speaking with little patience.

"What is it? I told you what I intended, and you didn't try to stop me, so what is the problem?"

"How far do you think we'll get without an employee with us? Even if you manage to get out, where do you intend on going then? They'll expect you to go home, or to the police. And I thought you had a soft spot for Marcus... What is your plan, milady?" Cursing under my breath, I knelt back at the dead man's side, searching his pockets for something else that could be of use. All he had in his pocket was a pen, completely identical to the one I'd stolen from Marcus, seemingly a normal company pen, but Conrad grunted when I pulled it out into view.

"What now?"

"The pen. It's his access to the computer system, I've seen him use it. Could be useful, if you want to waste our time reading. Or if you want to stab someone else." I stood, turning quickly to him with a dark look in my eyes.

"Watch yourself, or perhaps I will." I moved to the computer, sitting in the unoccupied chair and calling back to my comrade, "How does it work?" This time he was the one to sigh, coming over and pushing me back, letting the chair roll and taking up all the space in front of the monitor. Moments later he stepped back, a grin on his face that spoke volumes towards how much he was sure I needed him.

Scanning through his emails seemed like a fruitless search at first, but more and more they were to and from a Warren Vidic concerning a subject 17, and keeping up progress with this site's subject. So there was someone else in the same situation as me, and from the way things seemed, the two of us were connected. It couldn't possibly mean that they had-

The sound of a full metal tray clattering to the floor broke my thoughts and I looked up at Marcus, who had turned almost as white as his lab coat. Glancing to Johann, I stood and began to walk towards the panicking man, muttering to Johann to see if he could find out where Beta Site and this subject 17 were before I did. He sat at the computer and I crossed the room quickly, Marcus finally making eye contact with me.

"Leila... He's done it a-again. I- you have to get out of here, he-" His knees went weak and he collapsed to the ground, catching him from falling too hard not an easy task when having to dodge a pool of blood and spilled food. With my arm around him, I leaned my head against his and spoke as gently as I could manage.

"Don't worry about him, Marcus. What you see here is my work, what had to be done. He will not lay a hand on either of us as long as I say."

"You did this? Leila, you couldn't... The bleeding effect can't have-"

"Listen to me," I spoke a bit more firmly, "I need your help now. We can't stay here, not after this. But we need you to escort us out, you're an employee."

"You... Killed him..." I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look me in the eye.

"Marcus! I need you to calm down, okay? Focus! We need to get out of here, now, and you have to take us!" After a few seconds, he nodded, still wide eyed, but when I released him, he stood, straightening his jacket and moving to the door. I motioned for Johann to follow behind me, and as we entered the deserted hallway, it looked much like I was being escorted by the pair of them.

We weren't stopped by any of the other employees, most of whom quickly moved out of the way after spotting Smith's direct subordinate and his body guard walking briskly through the building. It wasn't until Marcus swiped his key card and we entered the garage that a security man in a gray uniform approached us.

"Isn't that the test subject from upstairs?" They all looked to me and back at each other, Marcus hesitating for only an instant before replying.

"Yes."

"Then where do you think you're taking her? They aren't supposed to leave the lab."

"I know. I work in the lab. I was told we were transporting her, I'm just following my boss' orders."

"Isn't that a little risky? What if she tries to escape?" He sighed, taking the actor's part surprisingly well.

"Why do you think I brought the doctor's personal guard with me? Look, we have to be at Beta in a few hours, and you're going to make me late. What's the extension down here, because I'm going to tell Vidic to call you when he's angry over the delay." At the mention of the new name, the guard stiffened for a second, backing down quickly.

"You don't have to do that, man. I'm just trying to do my job here, you don't need to get a guy fired... Go on, I'm sorry I kept you." He hurried back to the security desk, punching in what was required to open the gate onto the street, and Marcus led us around a corner to a small blue mini cooper. He fumbled for the keys and unlocked the doors, Johann left to cram his large frame into the back seat of the small car. Once we were out on the street, Marcus looked over at me, panic still in his eyes ready to surface.

"What now?"

"You said it yourself. Beta."

"But you've just escaped! Why would you walk right back into their hands?"

"They have Altair."

"What? Leila you aren't making sense-"

"They have him! I know they do! And I will NOT be responsible for his death! Now GO!"


End file.
